A son’s wedding without his father’s presence would send the message that the father did not approve of his son’s choice of bride, and this could surely cause our people anxiety.’ Alim watched his father’s jaw grit. ‘Let us discuss this again when you are well.’
His father would have argued further, but suddenly Alim sensed distraction as he saw Oman glance towards the adjoining door, and he guessed that his father’s lover had just arrived.
‘I shall see you in the morning for breakfast,’ Alim said, and then bowed and left.
As he walked along the corridor, though outwardly calm, inside his mood was dark. No, he could not put off choosing a bride for ever, but he had no desire to live the life that his parents did—he thought of his mother alone tonight in the palace. Always she had put on a brave face and smiled at her children as if things were just fine.
How could they be?
Alim did not want a bride chosen for him by his father.
He wanted...
What?
The maudlin feeling would not shift. Alim reminded himself that his friend Bastiano would be in town next week and that would likely cheer him up. But Bastiano was just another rich playboy, and the casinos and clubs did not hold their usual allure for Alim.
In truth, he was tired of his exhausting private life. The thrill of the chase no longer existed, for after two years in Rome women sought him out.
He walked through the foyer and, sure enough, the last of the guests were leaving.
Alim went up the stairwell and, unlocking the door, he went onto the gallery.
There were no signs of his sister and Alim assumed she was safely in her suite. The photographer had left some equipment so Alim made a mental note to lock the door as he left.
Alim glanced down at the stunning ballroom.
The staff were clearing the glasses and tables away but most of it would wait for the morning.
It was done.
The wedding had been his gift to the couple and Fleur had engineered things so that it was held at the Grande Lucia. Yet he had not taken any significant part in the proceedings.
Yes, it had been a wonderful wedding but for Alim it had been a wretched day and night.
Apart from the time spent with Gabi.
He looked down at her standing in the now-empty ballroom.
Alim had been going to ask her to work for him but had decided that, given how he felt, at best it would be foolish to get overly involved.
Then he smiled when he recalled her blush when she had thought he was about to ask her to dance.
And, as of now, he was no longer working.
GABI WANTED TO go home and hide her shame.
Over and over she replayed it in her head—that awful moment when she had thought the suave Alim had been asking her to dance.
She stood in the empty ballroom and surveyed the slight chaos that a successful wedding reception left in its wake.
The staff had been in and cleared the plates and glasses, the tables had been stripped and the chairs stacked away. All Gabi had to do tonight was take the old gramophone out to her car and safely put away the grandparents’ vinyl record that the bride and groom had danced to.
It could wait a few moments, though, and Gabi paused to look around.
It was such a magnificent ballroom.
The chandeliers had been switched off and it was lit now by the harsh white downlights that had come on when the music had ended and it had been time for the guests to leave.
And, because she could, Gabi headed to the power box and one by one flicked the switches until all the lights were off.
She did not turn on the chandeliers.
They didn’t need electricity to be beautiful, for the moonlight came in through the high windows and it was as if the snow outside was now falling within. Even unseen trees made an appearance because the shadows of branches crept along the silver walls.
It was like standing in an icy forest, so much so that she could imagine her breath blowing white.
What had Alim been about to say to her?
It might be weeks or months before she was here at the Grande Lucia again.
Maybe she would never know.
Gabi heard the door open and turned, assuming it was one of the staff to clear the remnants of the wedding away.
Instead, it was Alim.
‘I was just...’
Just what?
Thinking about you.
Gabi didn’t say that, of course.
‘It went very well tonight,’ he said.
‘Thank you.’
And now she should collect her things and go home, yet she made no move to leave.
She was one burning blush as he walked across the room, and she did not know where to go or what to do with herself as he approached the old gramophone.
And then she shivered.
Not because it was cold, for the air was perfectly warm; instead, she shivered in silent delight as she heard the slight scratch of the needle hitting the vinyl. The sounds of old were given life again and etched on her heart for ever as he turned around, walked towards her and, without a word, offered her a dance.
And, without a word, she accepted.
His embrace was tender but firm and, close up, the heady, musky sent of him held a peregrine note that she could not place. But, then, nothing about tonight was familiar.
Usually his greetings were polite; tonight things had changed and, Gabi thought, even the suave Alim seemed to accept they were on the edge of something.
‘Listen.’ He spoke into her ear and his low voice offered a delicious warning. ‘I am trouble.’
‘I know that.’
He felt her head nod against his chest and her words were accepting rather than resigned so he made things clearer. ‘If you like me, then doubly so.’
‘I know all of that,’ Gabi said.
The trouble was, right now, here in his arms, Gabi didn’t care and she lifted her face to his.
Tonight was her night.
Gabi knew his reputation and accepted it would never be anything more than a night, yet she had carried a torch for Alim for years.
The consequences she could live with.
It was regret she could do without.
His body she had craved and imagined for so long, and she rested against it now. He was lean and strong and he moved her so skilfully to the music that for the first time in her life Gabi felt not just co-ordinated but light.
They stared deep into each other’s eyes. She never wanted to leave the warmth of his gaze, and for now she did not have to.
They stared and they swayed and they ached within.
His whole life, Alim had fought to keep his business and personal life separate. It had seemed the sensible thing to do, yet nothing made more sense than the thoughts that were now forming in his mind.
One woman.
He thought of the many upcoming trips home and he thought of returning to the Grande Lucia and to Gabi in his bed.
Alim